We have two tickets to give away to one lucky winner for Max Jury at the Workman’s Club on Sunday (October 5th). To be in with a chance of winning, just email your name and day time telephone number to email@example.com and tell us what state Max Jury is from in America (the answer is below!). Make sure you put Max Jury in the subject line of the email. Closing date for entries is tomorrow, Thursday Oct 2th at 6pm. Tickets are non-transferable.
Just 21 but undeniably an old soul, Max Jury comes on like the missing link between Gram Parsons and George Harrison, shot through with the grace of James Blake. An impeccable song-crafter, he’s got one foot in the cornfields and the other in the nearest dive bar whilst his fingers skip across the keys of his Fender Rhodes. An Iowa native, he binds together timeless themes of the struggles of being young, drinking the bottle dry and love lost and found with a small town perspective, topped off an airy croon that’s bound to break as many hearts as it heals.
Growing up in rural Des Moines, surrounded by wide open spaces and with the city’s biggest musical exports, those jumpsuit-sporting new metal titans Slipknot, looming large, he sought creative solace in his dad’s old bluegrass and new wave records and his mother’s mixtapes. “I would find them and play them in my room,” he recalls of the cassettes. “I didn’t know who the artists were at the time, but looking back it was stuff like The Beatles and Lucinda Williams and Elvis Costello.” Through Lucinda Williams he discovered The Flying Burrito Brothers and the hippy country scene, which would eventually lead to him naming his French bulldog after Emmylou Harris. “I also wish I had a ferret named after Tammy Wynette,” he muses.